After the Fall
by thatblue
Summary: When his planet had burned, the Doctor thought he had nothing left. He was wrong. When two children are dropped into his world, with the claim that he is their father, he must learn to live again. For them. (A complete rewrite of the previous version.)
1. Chapter 1

The first time his hearts were broken, he was a small boy. He was much too small, to understand how big love could really be, and how much it often cost. Looking back, it was a minor heartbreak, that of a childhood friend, moving far away.

He had shed his tears, up on an empty hill, while a cold wind whipped around him. Back then, his mother had come for him. She had scooped him up into her arms, and let him sob against her until he felt whole again.

But that was a long time ago, and a place he could never return. That little hill was lifetimes, and bodies away. Burnt now, along with everything else he had ever known.

The Doctor slammed the spanner down against the console, and she let out a noise of anger. He sighed, and ran a hand down his face.

This was the cost of saving everyone, being alive. Surviving when death would have been a gift he would have welcomed, one he would have embraced like an old friend.

Now he was too much of a coward to end it himself, despite the bottles he'd held with shaky hands, and despite the plans he made that he couldn't follow through. Something was keeping him here, working against him, or maybe for him. He was half mad these days, hadn't left the TARDIS since it happened.

Food should be running out, but he hadn't been eating. A just bite here and there, sleep was long blinks. He needed to shower, to shave. He needed to really eat, and really sleep, and maybe see the sun again. But more than anything, he needed to fix the TARDIS, so he could get off the damn planet.

He hadn't wanted to land here, or anywhere. The TARDIS was acting up, and he had assumed she was just pouting because he'd been screaming at her a lot lately. Now she refused to move, sitting in a field, on a planet he hadn't planned to ever return to.

The Doctor hadn't been able to locate the problem, wasn't sure there was one. She might simply be mad at him; she'd done it before, after all. But he kept looking, because he didn't know what else to do. At least if he pretended he was doing something, he wouldn't have to go outside. He couldn't bare facing anyone, letting anyone see him for fear they might see right through him.

Words could break him now, were likely to break him now. It's the reason he was still alone- well, one of the reasons he was still alone. He could have sought out a companion, but even the dimmest one he could find would know he was the farthest from okay that he had ever been.

He pulled up the grating, and slid down into it once more. Outside he could hear rain, pouring for hours now. He shivered, despite the fact that he was quite warm, and began to pull off a cover.

The first knock was soft, and he was able to brush it off as nothing. He couldn't imagine who would be knocking on his door, especially in the middle of a field, in the middle of the night.

The second was louder, and the third louder still. He sighed, pulling himself out, and wiping his hands off. He stared at the door for a moment, before finally shuffling over. There was no reason to answer this. He could simply leave it, let the probably curious stranger go on thinking it was just a silly empty box, in the middle of nowhere. It's what he should do, but something from beyond those doors called out to him.

He opened it, and poked his head out.

Rain ran down his face, cold and heavy. It seemed thick and determined to soak beyond his skin, to get the chill it carried all the way into his bones.

"I'm busy in here," he said, turning until he saw an older man, holding two small children.

The three of them were shivering; the man looked so weak he could barely hold his precious load any longer. The children lacked jackets, and shoes, bare skin exposed to the elements. The Doctor wanted to be angry, until he saw the state of the older man. He too had bare feet, diluted blood could barely be seen by the Doctor as it gathered around the man's exposed feet.

Wherever they had come from, it had been quite a walk. They were all pale, and exhausted, and this wasn't a mistake. This man hadn't stumbled upon him, he had set out to find him. The Doctor just wasn't sure why, not yet.

"C…can we come in?" the older man stuttered out.

The words cost him, the sag in his shoulder more pronounced now that he had said them. Or perhaps it was relief, because the Doctor somehow understood that this was a journey coming a close.

He might be a lot of things, but he wasn't evil. He swung the door open, moving back so they could enter.

There was no hesitation, the man slipping past him, and depositing the kids on the ramp. They didn't react, other than to reach out, wrapping tiny arms around each other to keep warm.

He looked down at them. There was one boy, one girl. Blond hair on both, the boys straight, where the curls curled up tightly. They looked to be about two, maybe more or less, but close to that. Tiny compared to him, tinier compared to the room. They were holding each other so tightly, he wasn't sure how they were able to breathe, little toes curled up against the ramp, trying to keep warm.

He looked at the man now, racked with a coughing fit. His mind was screaming at him, medical needs and fixes flashing behind his eyes. He needed to get them warm, examined. He needed to spring into action, but shock had paralyzed him.

"They-" the man wheezed out when the coughing paused. "Are yours."

The Doctor looked down again, then up at the ceiling.

"That's impossible," he said, though he was quite sure it wasn't. "And why the hell don't they have shoes, or jackets?"

"No…more," the man wheezed.

The Doctor shook her head, scooping up the both of them. Their skin was ice beneath his palms, and he was worried they were going to freeze to death before his eyes. He sat the kids on the jump seat, and hurried off down the hall. The med bay had warm blankets, always, even when he didn't have a companion to offer them to.

He pulled three of them out, and hurried back. He tossed on at the man, who caught it and fumbled to unfold it. The Doctor took the other, wrapping it around the kids, who refused to let each other go. He tilted their heads up, so he could check them over. Their eyes were both bright, though they had circles under them that he didn't like.

The boys were crystal blue, the girls green and a mossy color. They both had a blue tint around their lips, they he hoped was only cold. A cough racked through the man again, and he looked over.

"What do you have?!" he asked, rubbing the blankets over the twin's skin, trying desperately to warm them. "Are they sick?! Why are you here?!"

The man coughed again.

"Dying…I'm afraid," he rasped out. "But they aren't sick…can't get it….got vaccinated. All the money gone…"

He sagged against the railing, and the Doctor fumbled for words. Finally he reached out, grabbing his stethoscope, and pushing it into his ears. The twins said nothing, as he listened to first one heart beat, and then the other. They both had two hearts inside their tiny chest.

Adinites…the species of this planet, only had one. And he knew that this wasn't such an impossible thing. He had been here before, some time back. A different body, a desperate night. He'd met a girl, Lane, she had been beautiful and kind, and receptive.

A simple scan would be all it would take to prove they were his, but he didn't need it. He could tell, could see it clearly. But that didn't change the fact that he wasn't going to take them, couldn't take them.

"I don't know what you want from me," he said, pulling them back into his arms. "But I don't live a life fit for kids, take them back to their mum….they can have the blankets….I'll even give you a ride."

"Lane died a cycle ago," the man said, coughing again. He wiped blood off his lip. "I don't have long…our world is dying. Most kids…shipped off…distant relatives. Only the rich got vaccinated…and the children. I was neither. They'll be alone when I'm gone. Soon…everyone will be gone. They have no one….but you."

He looked down at them. A weight in his arms, he hadn't felt in so many years. And he realized that for the time they'd been there, he hadn't been in agony. He'd been distracted, putting them before him. He couldn't let them go out there to die, couldn't send his children –even if they were unplanned- to a world on their own. They wouldn't make it.

"Let me try to help you," he said after a moment. "You can all stay. I might be able to cure you."

"I've lived long enough," he said. "But you could take me home. I'd like to see it one last time."

The Doctor nodded, and settled them onto the jump seat again. He carefully flew the TARDIS, moving now as he knew she would. He knew that he should argue, but he could see the exhaustion in his face. He might be able to cure him, could probably find him someone that could, but he wasn't going to argue.

Even if he should.

"What are their names?" he asked, as the man walked to the door slowly.

"The girl is Shy…the boy is Gav," he said, coughing roughly. "Take care of them, it was Lane's last request."

He coughed again, and slipped out of the doors. The Doctor watched for a moment, but he didn't return. He took a slow breath, and tried to reel in his thoughts. He'd gone from alone in the universe, to a father of two, in a very short while.

He counted slowly, to five- a number he'd always enjoyed. And then turned and looked at them. They were looking up, the shivering less than before. He came over, and gathered them up, before heading back to the med bay. Clothes were on the counter, boys and girls, folded and waiting.

He undressed them each, and then redressed them, giving them a check up. They were both healthy, despite the chill, and warming quickly now.

"Shy?" he said to the girl, when they were both dressed in warm pajamas. She nodded and rubbed at her eyes.

"'ats me," she said.

"And Gav," the Doctor said, to the boy. He nodded, but didn't speak.

They were both ready for bed, he could see it in their eyes. He picked them up, carrying them down the hall. He opened the door next to his, and was relieved to find it filled with supplies. There were two little beds, with side rails. They were matching with a comforter of some cartoon bear. He went over, putting a child in each, and covering them up. He searched the shelves, until he found two stuffed dogs, and brought them over. They each snatched it from him, and curled up in their beds.

The ceiling had fake stars, and the TARDIS hum filled the mostly dark room. Their breathing evened out, almost at once, and he stared down at them.

He didn't know if he knew how to be a father anymore. He wasn't sure that he wasn't going to make a complete mess of them, but he was going to do his best. He had long since given up on living for himself, but he could live for them. When the waves threaten to overtake him, he could keep afloat, because two people needed him now.

The Doctor carefully slipped out of the room, and back to his. He shed his clothes, and dug out new ones.

The shower was hot against his skin, and he let it burn away the months he'd neglected himself. When he finally deemed himself clean, he stepped out, and went to shave. He wiped the steam from the mirror and started at his face. He hadn't looked, hadn't cared, but now he did.

His ears and nose were large, but his eyes were bright, like his sons. He shaved off the beard, and looked again. If nothing else, at least he was faking his way to a new start.

He shuffled out of the room, ignoring the growl his stomach produced. It was hard to focus, and his bed looked more inviting then it had in ages. He dressed, and went to their room once more. Shy had crawled into her brother's bed, and they were holding each other and the dogs. But they were still asleep, and he retreated to his room once more. He was asleep, the moment he hit the pillow.


	2. Chapter 2

He finally slept, deeply.

The Doctor slept so deeply, that the dreams couldn't find him where he was hiding. He need hours more, days more, but time didn't wait for him to wake. Instead, he found himself being touched, by four small hands, warm and sticky against his cheeks. A finger slid across his nose, smelling vaguely of grape jam and another jabbed at his eye, trying to pull his eye lid up and peer inside.

He let out an internal groan, trying to pull himself up out of the blanket of his rest.

"'s not wake," the boy whispered.

He struggled, managing to pull his eyes open at last. The room was bright, and he was being stared at by the twins. For a brief, agonizing moments, names that didn't belong to them filled him up to the point he thought he'd burst. He wasn't sure what he was thinking, taking on such a daunting task after his world had crashed around him.

Reality was now offering out its hand, as though they hadn't been on fighting terms for such a long time.

He swallowed hard, hands clenched in the bed sheets, while four bright eyes waited for him to find himself again.

He had avoided his real life, as much as possible. Tinkered until the TARDIS was angry, and his brain was no numb he could almost breathe. He'd been drowning in a storm of constant regret, as it swept him off his feet time after time.

But they were waiting, waiting for him to sit up, and be a man. Be their father, so he did. Slowly, he released his grip on the sheets, his fingers aching as the blood rush back in. He pulled himself up, and looked them over. They were both shirtless, covered in the jam they smelled of, and smiling at him widely.

He turned his head, looking at his nightstand. They had bared a corner that was now filled with a plate. There were overly runny eggs, and toast that only barely resembled itself, blackened all the way.

He was filled with a sudden rage, with the TARDIS, with them, with himself. How had they come upon the kitchen? And didn't they understand they were much too young to be that close to a stove. Sure, they were smart, more so then their age, but they were tiny, and vulnerable, and it made him scared.

And in this body, fear often came out as anger. He reached out, grabbing their hands and pulling them closer quickly. They both let out a nervous squeak, but didn't struggle as he looked them over for burns or cuts.

When he was satisfied that the food was the only thing that had suffered he released them. They both scooted back, almost exactly in the same motions, watching him with tears in their eyes.

"You can't use the stove!" he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "It's off limits; just don't even go into the kitchen without me."

Shy blinked, the tears breaking over her lower lid, and Gav quickly sat up straighter. He pulled his sister into a tight hug, sticky arms doing what the Doctor ought to be himself.

The Doctor sighed, running a hand over his face. It'd been too long since he'd been a father, and he wasn't positive he'd done an amazing job the first time. And back then, the first time, he hadn't done the things that had led him here.

His daughter wasn't sobbing. He wouldn't have known she was crying at all, if her scrunched up face wasn't facing him. She wasn't doing this to get his attention; this wasn't some red flag she was laying down in his path. She didn't expect him to apologize, or make this right, and that was what broke his resolve.

If they didn't become a family, make something where there was nothing, then what was the point of it all?

He wanted these little ones safe. He wanted them to live so long it amazed him, and find love, and families of their own. He wanted that so much, it didn't matter he had no idea how to become the sort of father they deserved. It might take time, but he could do gentle again. He knew he could.

The Doctor reached out once more, slowly, gently, pulling them up into his lap. He hugged them, while they hugged each other.

In the silence, he promised what he couldn't say out loud. He promised them a life, a real life. He promised them they would be amazed by the things they saw, and the love they felt. He vowed to be better, and never give up on them, no matter what.

"I'm sorry," he said, after a moment, letting them go. "I meant what I said…but I shouldn't have said it like that. Now…you made me breakfast?"

Gav looked up at him first, and pulled away, scooting across the Doctor's bed until he got to the plate. The Doctor reached out, taking it. It too was sticky and he knew that the next thing he was going to have to accomplish was a bath. He started making a list, of shops, places, events. He started organizing, because it made it possible in his head. He could be a father, one step at a time.

The Doctor looked down at the food on the plate, inedible, even if his stomach did recognize it as food.

It'd been so long since he'd eaten, and he wasn't sure how well he was going to react to this, but he picked up the black toast and took a bite. It dissolved in his mouth, but he continued until it was gone. They looked so pleased with themselves that he managed a smile.

Shy hummed softly, and he sat the plate to the side.

"You'll be needing a bath," he said, reaching out for them.

He scooped them up, before there could be any protest, and carried them back to their room. The TARDIS had already made them a nice bathroom, with child size features, and he found everything he needed inside.

He had them in there, splashing soon enough, and he went out to their room. As he dug through the clothes, he felt tears fill his eyes. That was the one thing he hadn't done-cry. He'd screamed, raged, promised to go back, swore he wouldn't. He'd torn rooms apart, and tried to glue himself back together in any order he could find, but a tear hadn't fallen once.

Now they flowed freely, with his kids splashing in the background. The world seemed to fade away him. He could hear them, kept enough of his mind on that to be aware they were okay, but the rest he let go. He just remembered, clutching small clothes to his chest, his jacket becoming damp.

He cried for all the ones he couldn't save, for a choice he didn't have. He cried because saving the universe meant destroying his own. He let the tears run, until his head began to ache, until he heard restless voice from the bathroom. There was a very good chance that he was too broken to be raising any kids.

But right now, they were three souls adrift in a universe that wasn't going to do them many favors. All they had was each other, and no matter how hard it was, he was determined to make them into a family.


	3. Chapter 3

The Doctor had washed the smell of grapes from them. He had combed out their hair, decided that they could use a haircut, though it was really just his preference.

They were dressed now, in tiny clothes, real food filling up their stomachs. He was seated on the jump seat, hands folded in his lap, watching them play on the floor of the console room.

The Doctor had been trying to get up for several minutes, reminding himself of the list he was working to accomplish. He had discovered a lack of toys in the TARDIS, something he was sure had been on purpose, and though there were a few outfits, there weren't near enough for the messes they were sure to make.

He knew the TARDIS was working on him. She was making it so he had to seek out the new stuff, buy them what they needed. It was a grand plan, to make him step out of the bigger on the inside box, he would have surely let become his tomb, if they hadn't come along.

He wasn't sure he was much better, much closer to being alive then dead, but he was going to have to work on that. He was going to have to step up, and start living.

The TARDIS was positively humming with the change in events, and he knew she was quite taken with them already.

He finally stood, and their eyes shot to him at once. They were watching his every move, always seemed to be, and it was a heavy reminder to keep himself on the path he had etched out before them. He lifted them up, and moved to the seat next to the one he had just occupied. It was long, and cushy, with straps that he carefully buckled around them.

They didn't struggle, moving even to help him pull their arms through. He wondered how long this would last, envisioning fits of the future. It was almost enough to make him smile –something so normal it ached.

"Go?" Shy asked, wiggling until she seemed comfortable. "We going?"

"Yes," he agreed, nodding.

He stepped over to the console, piloting them as carefully as he could. It felt good to fly again, familiar. He felt like he had a purpose for the first time in –if he was completely honest- much longer than it had been since his world had turned to ash at his hands.

Shy was smiling, quick with the words that did know, and with that little smile. Gav was quieter. He watched even more than Shy, but the Doctor heard them whispering.

The Doctor landed them on Earth, with a small sigh. He couldn't imagine what had drawn him here, once more. Not when he had a whole universe out there, where they could shop and see, and yet, he took them back to his second home. Now…outside of the TARDIS, the only place he even remotely felt like he belonged.

He looked over at the twins, and they met his gaze. He took the short steps to them, unbuckling them and putting them on the ground again. When they had a good grip on his fingers, one on each side of him, he headed for the door.

The sun was shining, and it was warm. There was a small breeze, the smell of life in the air. The twins tilted their heads, back, looking at the blueness of the sky. He did the same, closing his eyes for a moment. He wondered when the last time they saw a sun was, and if it felt as amazing to them, as it did to him in that moment.

When he opened his eyes, he found the children had closed their eyes to block the sun, but they still had their heads tilted up. He smiled, as he heard the sound of laughter in the air. Children's laughter, and he turned his head, realizing how close they had landed to a park. There were swings, and slides, and a large box full of sand.

There were children running around, lost to the troubles of the world. The twins looked up at him, and he let out a breath of annoyance. They could have landed in an alley; they could have landed right next to the store. He glared at the door of the TARDIS and he was fairly sure he heard her humming from here.

The Doctor wasn't certain they had ever been to a park, or if they had other children aside from each other to play and laugh with. He did know they knew that they wanted to go though, even before they looked from the park to him.

"P'ease," Shy said, tugging on his hand.

Gav waited a moment, and then nodded.

"P'ease daddy," he said, tugging too.

The Doctor let out a sigh, reaching up and running a hand over his face. He didn't want to stop, wanted to get them back into the TARDIS as quickly as he could, but he couldn't deny them this. He took their hands again, leading them over to the sandbox. They released his hands, and hurried off into it.

The Doctor settled onto a bench, watching as they played with the sand in awe. They didn't start out building anything, just letting it run through their fingers, enjoying the feeling of something new. They looked so much like humans, that no one was going to know just how far from their home they were. He stayed alert, always alert, because he had to keep the safe. Even if there was no real danger

He almost didn't notice the woman settling beside him, as her child joined them in the play area. He was a little boy, with bright eyes, and a spiky hair. His mother watched him for a moment, and then turned to the Doctor.

"They're yours?" she asked.

He bit back a sarcastic response, and tried to pretend he still knew how to interact with the funny little apes, he and his children so closely resembled. Or, really, it was the other way around.

"Yes," he said, nodding.

It didn't exactly come out as polite, but it was better than it could have been.

She waited for more, watching him, until he finally looked away. He counted his breaths, waiting for her to decide he was a little too odd to be sitting by.

"Alec," she called out after a moment, rising. "Alec, let's go play on the swings."

The boy let out a huff, dropping his handful of sand onto Shy's lap and running for her. The Doctor waited for Shy to react, but she simply brushed it off and went back to what she was doing. He was sure he didn't take another breath until mother and child were well enough away from them.

The Doctor returned his focus to the twins, and smiled, despite being so uncomfortable here.

This whole time, since the end of the war, since he survived, he thought he had been falling. A constant event that had claimed all his time, and energy, but he realized that he wasn't falling at all. He was already at the bottom, and as they rushed over, sand covered and rosy cheeked, he realized that there was something after the fall after all.

**Three Years Later**

The Doctor had a book opened in his lap, and he was doing his very best to act like he was reading it. He had been meaning to for weeks after all, and they were well enough occupied that he had the time. But they kept bickering, and drawing his attention back to them, whether they were aware of it or not.

Shy was standing on a chair or her tower as they had decided, a table separating them. Gav had a fake sword at his side, a stick he was calling his horse laying on the floor beside him. He wanted so much to rescue her, because he thought that was how the game ought to be played, but Shy hopped down once again and rounded the table.

"You can come up," she said, crossing her arms. "But this isn't a rescue."

"You said I could be the hero!" he complained.

The Doctor sighed, closing the book. This was at least the third time he'd heard this fight, and he decided they had been watching too much TV. That had to be where this was coming from.

He didn't interrupt yet, though he knew he was going to have to. He just smiled, despite the fighting, because he was so glad to have their company and their love. Three years he'd been a father…well, the second time around.

They had grown, taller, wiser. He taught them from the books in the library, from the knowledge in his head, and when they weren't playing, they were eager to learn about the universe around them.

He loved them more than he knew was possible, and though they hadn't stopped the nightmares, or made the pain nothing but a memory; they had given him a sense of purpose. A reason to hold on again. They gave him a reason to be a better man, and he was trying ever day to accomplish that for them.

Gav let out a tiny huff, turning to him, arms crossed over his chest.

"Tell her that the hero saves the girl, Daddy," he whined out.

Shy hurried to him, climbing up into his lap, and sticking out her lower lip. She batted her big green eyes, and he knew that a lesser man might give this child anything she wanted.

It would be so easy to spoil both of them, he did have a universe at his hands after all, but he had vowed to be fair. To be responsible, so that the lives he let loose into that universe were good, and fair and kind. He wanted them to be what he had failed to be more often than not.

"I think that's enough of that game," he said, gently.

He smiled as Gav's stomach growled, and stood up, keeping his hold on Shy.

"I think you've earned a snack," he said.

Shy lost the pout, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Like what?!" she asked, brightly, planting a kiss on his cheek.

He shook his head, carrying her out into the hall as Gav skipped at his side.

"I think we can find something," he said, grinning at first her and then him.

He settled them into their chairs, and glanced back once more. He never dreamed of this life, but he found out that was only because his dreams couldn't imagine a reality so good.

**Five Years Later**

Screaming ran down the halls, pushing past his door, and waking him. It was Shy, without a doubt, and while he knew nothing could get on this TARDIS to hurt her, he still threw back the covers. He leapt out, sliding to the door and throwing it open.

The twins slept every night, though like him, they could go longer if they needed. They had always slept peacefully, not plagued by a past like his. He had never known them to have a nightmare, if they ever had; they sure hadn't come to him.

He pulled her door open, skipping knocking, and rushing in. She was sitting up, as he flipped on the light, pale, and chest heaving. Her hands were clutching her blanket tightly, and for a moment, in his mind, she was two again.

He blinked and rushed for her, checking her over for injuries, despite the fact he was certain this trauma had come from within.

He ran his hand over her arms, but found nothing but them trembling. The Doctor reached out to her, pulling her against him, and shifted until he was leaning against the wall, holding her tightly.

"My precious girl," he whispered, rubbing her back.

He let her get it out, murmuring until the tears stopped, and finally when the shaking did.

When she was ready, when she tilted her head to look up at him, he wiped away the tear trails. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked, softly, shifting to see her better.

"Why is there war?" she asked.

The questions caused his hearts to miss a beat, and stole the breath from his lungs. He cleared his throat, searching for an answer that would be appropriate. She was smarter than her age, that was certain, so he couldn't feed her an answer he might to a normal child her age. But at the same time, she was still so young, and there was such a thing as way too much information.

What she was asking was so complicated, so heartbreaking, that he fumbled for several moments.

"Well," he finally said, closing his eyes, and forcing the screams out of his all too active mind. "Sometimes, someone feels very strongly about something, and sometimes, a lot of times, they're wrong….though that isn't really the point."

"What is the point?" she asked, moving to sit up.

He dropped his hands into his lap. She was staring at him, beyond that, studying him.

"The point is, that it matters to them," he said, thinking back to all the wars fought in the name of something awful. "And then you'll have another side, that doesn't believe or want those same things, and Shy, this is so important. That doesn't make them right either."

"Well, doesn't someone have to be right?" she asked, picking at her blanket.

"You'd be surprised, darling," he said, taking her hand. "But those sides, with their opposing ideas, feel that the only way to get everyone onto their side is to fight. Fight until they are the winners. And it's awful, and cruel….and…it's hard to understand, even for me."

"You fought," she said.

He took in a sharp breath, and then nodded.

"Is that what this is about?" he asked. "You…saw?"

She nodded, and bit her lip.

"Were you right?" she finally asked.

He needed to know how she saw, but he decided that could wait until morning. He looked around the room, and tried to come up with an answer he could live with.

"I don't know," he finally said. "But I did what I had to do."

She nodded, shifting until she was lying down on the bed.

"I still love you," she said, as he climbed to his feet. "Always will."

He looked down at her, touching her head and slipping from the room.

The next day, he began to work on psychic training. He helped them build walls, and it seemed they were fast developing their skills. Adinties were psychic to a degree, as were Time Lords. They were a combination of both, not needing to touch, but so far, not actively reading anyone's thoughts.

It took days, but finally the nightmares stopped. He watched them sleep peacefully, and then retreated to his own bed. It was the first time since the war; he slept without nightmares of his own.

**Two Years Later**

They were in the library. He was in the hall. He'd been in the hall for exactly five minutes, without being able to make his hand turn the knob on the door. He knew he had to go in, he was the one that had decided it was time, after all.

They were getting older, and it was his job to explain what was happening with their bodies. The only problem was that he had no idea how to begin this talk. They were his babies…admittedly not so much babies anymore.

But he couldn't bear the thought of Gav finding a girlfriend, and the thought of a boy coming near his baby girl made his head all poundy and he often had to sit down when the thought emerged.

He took another slow breath, ran his hand down his face and slowly pushed the door open a tiny bit. He looked at the back of their heads, both of them leaning back, relaxed. No idea what he was going to throw upon them.

He thought about it for another moment. Perhaps it was too early. They could wait another five…ten years…then he would tell them. They could live in innocence a little longer.

"He's going to go with the birds and bees thing," Shy said, confidently, nodding her head. "I'm certain of it."

"No way," Gav said, with a laugh. "Gardner and flower. I'm positive."

"If you were positive, you'd take my bet," she said.

"Dishes for a week?" he asked, running his fingers through his blond hair, seeming to think.

The Doctor moved a little farther away from them, listening and shaking his head. Here he was thinking he was going to be bringing up something they knew nothing about, but it seemed like they were on to him.

"Yes," Shy agreed. "Now shush and wait for him."

He paused for a couple breaths, reminding himself that he was nothing if not professional. He pushed the door open, and cleared his throat.

Both of their heads turned, following him with their eyes as he moved in front of the couch they occupied.

He looked down at them, and tried to ignore the wave of nausea that found him. This was silly, he knew. He was the adult here.

"Alright," he said, nodding, and pulling his jacket straighter. "What do you two know about sex?"

Shy snorted, and tried to cover it up with a cough.

"There's a whole section on it, in the library," Gav said. "We've read the books."

"All of them," Shy said.

"W…what?" he said. "All of them? Why?"

"It's important to be informed," Gav said, smiling up at him.

"Some of it was pretty weird," Shy said, nodding.

"Yeah," the Doctor said, looking to where Gav was pointed.

He had forgotten he even had books on the subject, though he had books on most subjects in one dimension, or room, or another.

"Are we done?" Shy asked.

"Yes," the Doctor said, quickly.

They got up as he ran a hand over his head.

**Three Years Later**

The Doctor was alone, in the library. He had a stack of books next to him, piled high, and a cup of tea at his side. He let out a happy noise, surprising himself. He was really content in this moment. His head was relatively quiet, but not as quiet as it was before he had the children's energy in there. It was just enough to keep it from being unbearable.

He opened up the first book, settling back onto the couch. If he got comfortable enough, he might even take a nap, it'd been a couple days since he'd gone to bed.

He flipped through the pages, reading slowly. He savored the words; let them pour into his mind, caress his thoughts. He could read this whole stack in no time, but today wasn't a day for rushing. His head started to droop, his breathing slowing until the library door was thrown open.

He jumped up, the book spilling from his lap, and he blinked. The twins were there, grinning at him.

Gav gave a small wave, and walked over, scooping up the book.

"Sorry," he said, handing it over. "Didn't know you were sleeping."

The Doctor closed it, shrugging it off.

"Not now, are you two okay?" he asked, looking them over.

Gav was dressed in a button up shirt, jeans, and converses. He was almost as tall as the Doctor now, thin, but strong. Shy was a good bit shorter than him, dressed in a green shirt, with a book on it, and jeans. She too wore converses, and she was grinning at him.

They both still had blonde hair, very blonde, and their eyes were brighter if anything than when they were babies.

Shy's curls had relaxed slightly, and Gav wore his in a messy sort of bed head that contrasted with his otherwise tidy appearance.

"We're fine," she said. "But guess what?"

"What?" he asked, flopping back on the couch.

"We have to go to Earth!" Gav said, beaming at him, and rocking on his feet. "TARDIS picked up alien tech…way off what should be there."

He groaned, and nodded. He knew if they saw it, it must be true. And there was no more leaving them behind, they weren't going to have it. He looked up at them.

"No blowing anything up," he said, right away, pointing at Gav.

Gav huffed, and the Doctor almost let a smile slip.

"What if we need to," Shy said. "It could happen. You never know."

"I know," The Doctor said, climbing to his feet, and heading out of the room, and for the console.

He looked over the console, and then up at them. They weren't babies, he thought once again. Maybe someday, he'd finally be able to feel that. Right now, he still worried about them, all the time. But he had to go, and he had to admit, the help could be…well, helpful.


	4. Chapter 4

"Now…" Shy said, leaning over the table he was working on. He was putting the finishing touches on the detonator, on a bomb not fully built. "And I can't believe I'm saying this either, but is a bomb really the best solution to this plastic problem. Couldn't you use….a flame thrower. I like flame throwers…"

He looked up at her, her dark eyes full of amusement, and something that resembled real concern. He already didn't like admitting he was wrong about the bomb; he didn't want to argue over why, right now, this was the best choice. He just wanted to get into the building that would soon be empty, and do what he had to do.

"They're dangerous," he said. "And this is the best way to stop them. Didn't I ask you to get your coat?"

She let out a sigh, pulling her hands off the table and causing it to shake. Gav looked up quickly from the bomb he was working on, small really, but packing quite a punch.

"Careful!" he warned. "Even if it's not finished yet, it's dangerous."

Shy watched them both for a moment, and then shoved her hands in her pockets and walked off. He felt guilt. It was sharp, and heavy. She could have helped, but this wasn't her thing. She'd help Gav with the stuff in the lab, but it didn't really hold her interest. But he knew now that she felt useless.

He sighed, and stood, pulling his leather jacket back on. He tucked the detonator in his inside pocket, and gave Gav a nod, before heading out into the hall. Shy stepped out from her room, zipping up her jacket and ignoring him as she turned for the console room.

He shook his head. Teenagers were remarkably the same, he found. Most places in the universe they were withdrawn and confusing, and he worried about the twins every moment of everyday. Still, he was glad they were here, he just sometimes wished for their mother. Not because he had loved her, though she had been lovely. No, he barely knew her, certainly never should have slept with her.

But he longed for her now, because he wasn't as gentle as he should be with them. He loved them more than anything, but he didn't know how to do the things he ought to. He didn't know what they were missing, and he didn't know how to fix it, but it seemed that missing thing in their lives grew with every passing day.

Gav rushed out behind him, grinning and he smiled back. They headed off to the console room, and the Doctor flew them to Earth. He landed softly, silently, unsure of what to say.

DW

Shy shuffled to the door, opening it and stepping out. It was cool, but not cold, and she could easily adjust her body to counteract it…but she didn't. She let the wind blow across her cheeks, tickling them with the bits of hair that had slipped loose from their tie.

London smelled of a million things, some so subtle she nearly missed them. The food made her mouth water, though she wasn't hungry at all. It was loud inside her head, and loud outside, people talking and thinking all around.

She took in a deep breath, pushing up her walls, and the noise inside her head dulled to a level she could tolerate. She glanced back at her father and brother, walking out of the TARDIS, talking.

She tried to pretend she wasn't jealous, because the truth was; it wasn't as if they excluded her. They were good to her, protective, and giving. They weren't unkind, but she wasn't like them. Not enough to be discussing bombs, and tactics.

It wasn't as if she didn't enjoy those things, just…she wasn't so sure who she was these days. Found herself in the garden more and more, urging life back into the neglected plants. That or books, that was where she was feeling most at home lately.

Still, it was nice to be out. She headed off into the store, walking through without really looking. They had work to do, and limited time. Part of her still wondered if there was a better way, but at least the store would be empty. It was a building being lost, but that happened a lot in the history of the Earth.

She shook her head, feeling more melancholy then was normal for her. She sighed, and shoved her hands in her pockets again, trying to shake the feeling. Despite what they were doing, this wasn't a sad day. It should be exciting more than anything else.

She had no intention of stopping, until she saw the dress. It was gold, and seemed to shine in the bright lights of the store. She reached out, running her fingers over it, and sighed. He'd never get it for her, there was no reason. They didn't do dances. She felt them moving off, farther away from her, but she couldn't pull herself away from the dress.

DW

The Doctor was focused on the task, on what he had to do, so much so he didn't notice that his daughter had stopped. It wasn't until he felt Gav's hand on his arm, that he stopped and looked back. She was standing on the edge of the dress section, holding a long flowing gold dress in her grasp.

She didn't hold it up to her, but she was so focused on it, she nearly didn't blink. He hurried over to her, hating that he was going to have to rush her along. Her hearts were decided, that she wanted this dress, but he couldn't think of a single use for it. They never went anywhere that required a dress, and she had never expressed any interest in them before.

She was growing though, and he wondered if part of him wasn't seeing her anymore. Not the teenage girl she had become. He knew it was easier to see her as a baby, as a five year old, reaching out for his hand. Much easier, than realizing she was one day closer to not needing him anymore.

"We need to go, love," he said, gently, reaching out and touching her shoulder. "Please, we're short on time."

"It's so beautiful," she said, almost a whisper. Almost as if she expected him not to care at all, or to not be able to see its beauty. As if she expected him to fail her.

"It is," he agreed after a moment, torn about his next decision. Should he buy it for her? Find a reason for her to wear it, he was certain he could find a ball they could attend. Is that what a mother would do? A better father would do?

He sighed.

"And we're just going to blow it up," she said. "Soon, it'll be nothing but ash, or buried beneath the rubble. Gone to us."

He looked around, making sure no one in the nearly empty store had heard her confession before looking the dress over again. He sighed, and looked at his daughter.

"Shy," he said, softly. "Do you want it? We can buy it."

He was already reaching for some money, hoping he had some tucked away in one of his bigger on the inside pockets.

She seemed to shake off the trance, off the cloud that had settled over her, and dropped it. She looked over at him and smiled, shaking her head.

"Course not," she said, heading off and towards the lift. "Why would I want it? It's just a dress."

He watched her back for a moment, for signs that she was lying. There might have been the tiniest sag to her shoulders, but other than that, she was smiling and joking with her brother. If she was faking it, wearing a mask, she had become as good at it, as he was. The thought terrified him.

DW

Gav hated to see his sister upset, but she wasn't visibly right now. She didn't want him to worry, her father to worry, but she couldn't hide her mind. He could feel it, the disappointment, the loneliness, even she couldn't explain.

They had become a family, close, and largely only having each other. They were happy, she was happy, he knew for a fact, but he also understood. Sometimes, he longed for a fresh voice, someone else to talk to.

But he found solace in his experiments, in his family. It worked, for now.

When the elevator stopped, they stepped out. The hall was bright, but quiet, and they took the stairs up to the roof. The wind whipped around him, night settled over the city. He dropped to his knees, working on the bomb.

There wasn't much to do, but he moved slowly, checking and rechecking. He wished his father had listened, that there was some way to do this without the bomb.

The truth was, he loved blowing things up. Big things, small things, but he didn't like causing damage, not really. What he did, was fun. This was…different. Even if no one got hurt, it still felt worse. But he wasn't going to argue, wasn't sure that there was time for a better plan.

He connected the last wire, while his father pulled out his sonic and did a scan of the building. One final scan, and they'd go down. As soon as they were clear, they'd blow it. Easy enough. A mess left behind, but a mess without the loss of life. He could live with that.

"Damn it!" his father said.

Gav looked up quickly. It wasn't that he hadn't heard his father curse, in several languages in fact –usually when he smashed a finger working on the TARDIS- but him doing it now meant something was not going according to their plan. The bomb was stable, so he wiped his hands on his jeans and stood up.

"You two stay here," his father said, nodding, and shoving the detonator back into his pocket.

"What is it?" Gav asked, stepping closer.

"Someone's still inside," he said. "Two people, just stay here, please."

His eyes were begging, and Gav gave a nod, and shoved his hands into his pockets. The Doctor looked over at Shy and she gave a nod, and his father let out a breath of relief before taking off again.

DW

What he didn't say, was that one life was fading fast. Faster than he could reach them, he was certain, but he still ran. He skipped the lift, taking the stairs down as quickly as he could.

He shoved the sonic back into his pocket, hopping onto a landing and skidding to the next steps. He finally made it to the basement, bursting out, and running down. He nearly stumbled on the man, dropping to his knees.

He reached his fingers out, touching the man's neck. It was still warm, but all signs of life were gone. He wanted to try to do something, hated to leave him there, but that other life sign had been strong. The other person was still living, but that could change if the plastic got to them before he did.

He stood quickly, stepping over the man, and moving forward. He heard a female voice call out, sounding scared. It was time, too late, really. The plastic was active, and he knew they had little time to stop them before any escaped.

He had to get the woman out.

He came upon the door, opening it quickly, and looking in. One of the dummies had its hand up, had the woman –a girl really, young, and stunning, if he'd allow himself to think on it- backed against the wall.

He reached in quickly, unsure if she was frozen in fear, or just certain that she was trapped. He took her hand in his, and she looked over at him.

"Run," he said, tugging on her as the hand came down.


	5. Chapter 5

He pulled her through, the hand slicing through the air where she had been. She didn't look scared, though she ran along with him easily. They burst through a set of double doors, the dummies hurrying after them at a surprising rate for plastic.

He glanced at her. Blonde hair, that was far from natural –even if it suited her- and whiskey colored eyes. She was beautiful, honestly. Her smaller hand was human warm in his, and his hearts were racing in a way that had nothing to do with the running they were performing.

He got them to the lift, bouncing impatiently as it took it's time. When the doors slid open, he let her in first, moving in behind her, and hitting a button. He didn't care too much about the floor, though the one with the exit was what he was hoping for in his mad slap.

An arm forced its way into the closing gap, reaching for them. He could hear her heart rate increase, feel her fear, and he knew that he was willing to do anything to protect her. He grabbed the arm, the doors so close to closing, and yanked, and then again.

It popped off into his hands, and the doors closed, sealing them off from the danger. At least they were, for a moment. It would lie on the other side of the doors as well. Nowhere in this building was safe, and if they didn't stop it soon, there wouldn't be anywhere outside of this building that would be safe either.

She'd been silent. And while he knew she was scared, she hadn't lost her head. He was fairly impressed with her, not that he would mention it.

He held the arm in his hands, knowing that he should say something, but unsure of how to explain this away. Obviously he had to get her to safety. Even more obvious, was the fact that this would probably be the last time he saw her. Her only experience with him would be this. This lift ride, after she saw dummies coming to life, and he pulled the arm off one.

He sure did know how to make an entrance.

"You pulled its arm off!" the blonde said.

It was a statement, and accurate one at that. He turned to her, tossing the arm back and she caught it, looking down at it.

"Plastic," he explained, though she was holding it in her hands.

She nodded, somewhat slowly, and then looked up at him. She opened her mouth for a moment, and the closed it before opening it again.

"Very clever," she said. "What is this some student thing?"

He'd like to call her a silly little ape. He'd like to pretend she was just trying to explain away what she had seen, to justify it so it wasn't anything more than a prank. And there was a good chance that was plenty true, but he sensed something more than that too. A need to understand. He thought she might actually be seeking out an answer, even if it wasn't one she was likely to be comfortable with.

He had to admire that, even if it was just a little bit. He glanced back at her, trying to decide the best set of words to fall from his mouth. He didn't think they should involve his children being on the roof, ready to blow the building, at least not yet. They hadn't even properly met yet.

"Why do you think they are students?" he asked, after a moment.

"I'm not sure," she stared, but he shot her a glance, and she stood straighter. "They've got to be, don't they? That many people coming together and acting silly, students, right?"

It was logical, though very much wrong.

"That makes sense," he said, nodding and returning to his staring at the door.

At least it kept him from looking at her.

"So…they're students," she ventured.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "They aren't students."

She let out a huff of air, and he realized he was being frustrating. He allowed a small smile. He had realized this is record time, the twins would be so proud.

"Well, whoever they are," the girl said. "When Wilson finds them, he'll call the police."

He knew who Wilson was, was certain it was the body he was forced to leave behind. But he had to ask…had to be certain.

"Who's Wilson?" he asked, hoping his voice came out steady.

"Chief electrician," she said.

He let out a small breath. Damn.

"Wilson is dead," he said, firmly.

Would she cry? He couldn't imagine her tears coming, or how close they could have been, but he wasn't prepared for them if they did. He still flailed in the face of most emotions.

Fortunately the lift opened, and she followed him out without tears. He wasn't sure what to say, at this point, so he simply told her to watch her eyes as he gently pushed her to the side. Pulling out the sonic, he pointed it at the lift button, frying the connection. They might be following them up, but it wasn't going to be through this lift.

"I've had enough of this," she said, firmly, as he took off once again.

He gave a short nod, trying to lead her to the exit as quickly as he could.

She was full of questions, questions he couldn't and wouldn't answer, but that didn't seem to slow her. He found he didn't mind that she kept talking, rather liked the fire that seemed to fill her. Curiosity, ah, the silly little apes.

Finally he paused at the door, before opening it. His mouth followed, and she looked at him expectantly.

"They're made of plastic," he said, nodding and hoping she'd walk through the open door way. "Living plastic. There is a relay on the roof, which would be a problem if my children and I weren't about to take care of it." He pulled out the relay, while she looked around behind him presumably for the twins, as if she had missed two teenagers following them around. "We're going to blow them up, but we promise not to die in the process. So…go on, eat your beans on toast."

She walked through the door, but she was staring at him as though he was mad. Perhaps she wasn't wrong.

He could have said more, wanted to say more. But his life was far from just his own, and he thought that meant the days of asking for someone to jump into his adventure were long gone.

"Don't tell anyone about this," he said. "You don't want to get them killed."

He warning lay softly between them, as if it were simply a suggestion, instead of a sincere worry. He should have said it with more force, but really, she had gone through enough tonight.

He closed the door, despite her wide eyes, certain she was going to ask more questions. He was running out of time as it was. He took a couple steps, before he stopped. He knew what he needed to do, but didn't think he could bear to let her go without at least knowing her name.

He hurried back to the door, opening it again. She had turned away, but she looked back now.

"I'm the Doctor," he said, offering a flash of what could be called a smile. "And you are?"

"Rose," she said, after a moment. "I'm Rose."

"Nice to meet you, Rose," he said, nodding. And it really was, very nice to meet her, however brief. "Now, you better run."

He closed the door, and this time, he let it stay closed, hurrying back for the stairs. He had wasted far too much time, and they were going to have to run to get out of the building in time to blow it. He took the stairs in two's, and smiled to himself.

DW

Shy shoved her hands in her pockets and paced. He should have been back by now, even with someone in the building. Surely he just had to get them out, a quick lie, a little nudge, and they could easily be led to safety. So what was taking him so long?

"Do you have to do that?" Gav asked, looking her over.

He had zipped up his jacket, shoving his hands into the pockets. It wasn't cold, though the wind whipped around them this high in the air, and she could feel the coolness on her cheeks. She pulled them back, more of a grimace, then a smile, but enjoyed the cool stiff sensation.

She shrugged, leaning against the edge of the building and tilting her head back. She looked at the stars, waiting, counting. They looked different from here. Tiny and so very far away, though they were from this spot right here on Earth.

She felt sorry for the humans, which would never get to actually see them. To know what another planets air felt like, or the sand of some distant beach beneath their toes, that was sad to her. Of course…they had homes that never moved, and mothers and fathers, and cousins, and family so distant they could make a tree for them.

She wasn't sure if it was a fair trade off, but sometimes she wondered.

She opened her mouth to pose the question to her brother, when their father burst out of the stairway door. He flashed them a smile, and she couldn't tell if it was one of being pleased or apologetic for running off and making them worry. Not that she was worried.

"All set?" he asked, nodding to the bomb, lying innocently on the roof.

It wouldn't be just materials put together long, it would be destruction in a tiny package.

Gav nodded, glancing over at her. She let out a small sigh, and heaved herself off the edge and headed for the door.

"Faster than that!" he said, grinning now, and grabbing their arms.

He pulled them along with him, and she found herself smiling after a moment. She wasn't sure what had caused the good mood, but it was infectious.

They were laughing by the time they burst through the door, and rounded the corner from the building. The mood was only sobered when the Doctor pulled the detonator from his pocket. When they were a safe enough distance away, he hit the button.

Shy jumped, despite knowing it was coming, and shoved her hands in her pocket once more. The dress was gone, and they were off again. She knew it was for the best, but she still felt a hollow spot in her chest, and wondered what was missing.


	6. Chapter 6

The Doctor didn't look back, closing the door behind them, and hurrying to the console room. One thing accomplished, and if he didn't slow down, he didn't see the face of a blonde, with those beautiful eyes, at all in his mind.

The twins were largely silent, and when he looked up, they were watching him.

"What?" he asked, after a moment.

He turned from them, feeling guilty, though he wasn't sure why. He was worried the joy was written on his face, and this wasn't the time for joy. And either way, she was gone. Rose was just another passing face, one of many that he'd never see again.

"What was her name?" Shy asked after a moment.

He jerked his head up, and looked back at her. She had her hands shoved into her jacket pocket, and she was watching him carefully. He fumbled for words, glancing at his son.

"Were you looking into my mind?" he asked, avoiding the question for another moment.

"Of course not," Gav said, answering for his sister. He, though, was smiling at the Doctor.

"That would be rude," Shy said, and he thought he saw the corner of her mouth twitch.

"Which has stopped you when?" the Doctor teased, pulling a lever.

"Fair enough," Shy said. "But you didn't answer the question."

He cleared his throat. He was supposed to be many things. The Oncoming Storm, the destroyer. He wasn't supposed to feel like an awkward teenager at the mention of some human's name. He must be getting ill, he decided.

He half hoped, that he if he didn't answer, they'd wander off. That'd be much easier, but when he looked up they were both still there, waiting on him to speak again.

"Rose," he finally said. "Her name was Rose. Are you happy now? Can we get back to work?"

"Are you going to ask her along?" Gav persisted.

"That's not going to happen," he said, at once, looking them over.

He wanted to see some indication, that maybe someday, bringing someone new into their world might be okay. There was something in their faces, but he wasn't sure what it was, and he settled himself to waiting a few more years.

"Don't you want some adult company?" Shy asked.

He looked up again, startled.

"Why….would I want some adult company?" he asked.

They stared at each other for a long moment, and finally she shook her head.

"You should see your face," she said, flopping on the jump seat. "You know…for some company. The three of us…we're family. Sometimes you need an outsider. Shake things up, make them all new again."

He watched her, and for a moment, he considered tracking Rose down. But he couldn't. He wasn't sure why, but something inside him was scared. He was scared she might say yes, that she might shake up the foundation he had spent all these years building.

And he was scared she would say no. He didn't know which one he feared more.

"She's not much older than you two," the Doctor said. "A few years, I imagine."

They didn't answer, and he let out a sigh. They had given him permission, it was up to him now, he knew.

"What now?" Gav asked, looking the console over.

He blinked, and then nodded towards the screen above Gav's head.

"There is a signal, the plastic," he said. "We need to check it out….if you two want to stay here and wait, I can go alone."

"Cause that's likely to happen," Shy said, standing again. "We're not letting you have all the fun."

He sighed and flipped another lever.

DW

Gav stepped out of the TARDIS, the morning air warmer than last night. He breathed it in, and looked over to his father who was digging for his sonic. He had been trying to convince the Doctor that he and Shy needed one for themselves, but so far the man hadn't budged.

He wasn't quite sure why they were going along, because there was a book that he could be reading right now, but when Shy had agreed he knew that he too was going. There was no way he was letting the two of them go off on their own, because they were likely to fuel each others reckless streaks, whether they were aware or not.

So he stood there in the morning air, until his father nodded towards a tall building and shuffled along after him. His stomach let out a pathetic growl, and he remembered that they hadn't taken the time to eat breakfast.

The Doctor looked back at him, and smiled apologetically. It wasn't often that a meal was forgotten, of course, it wasn't often they had something real to do with their day. Sure, they went out, from time to time. And sometimes, they stopped a bit of trouble, but mostly they just shopped and he took them swimming and taught them from old books. This was something he could touch, really learn from.

This was real, and he was glad to be a part of it, even if there was a book in his room, calling his name.

"I have a banana," the Doctor said. "A couple, would you like them?"

Gav nodded, holding out his hand as the Doctor produced the un-bruised fruit from one of his pockets. Shy shook her head, as he offered her the other. She wasn't a big fan, but the Gav shared his father's love for the food, and quickly peeled at ate it, before they resumed walking.

"We'll get you some real food soon, love," he promised, hurrying off through a door and starting up the stairs.

They followed after him, Gav looking for a place to deposit his empty peel and finally slipping it back into his father's pocket. The Doctor was too busy to notice, muttering to himself as they climbed higher.

Shy looked at the stairs.

"I've never liked stairs," she said, looking over him.

He smiled, relieved that they were having a normal conversation. He was just relieved she was talking to him, he had missed her lately. It seemed like they were drifting farther apart with age, and he knew it was natural…but he still missed his sister and her thoughts.

"Why?" he asked, knowing it couldn't be the exercise that brought about this confession.

She could run him into the ground, and then do it all over again.

"They're quite boring," she said. "And quiet…what's so great about them?"

"Well," he thought as his father pushed open a door at the top. "They get you where you're going."

"In the least imaginative way I can think of," she said.

He couldn't argue with her there, so he gave a simple nod and followed his father down until he stopped at a door. The sonic was buzzing loudly, indicating they had found the source of the signal.

He glanced back at them, and then squatted down, looking over the cat door.

"What do you think?" he asked, looking up at them. "And don't say anything about how I'm not going to fit."

Shy opened her mouth, when the cat door pushed out and then dropped back down. His father raised his eye brows, and dropped to his knees, and this time he was waiting. When it opened again, he looked inside and quickly stood as the door opened.

There, in the doorway, stood a girl. She was staring at them, well, the Doctor, and looking both surprised and as though she recognized him. He glanced at his father's face and saw the same expression and quickly decided this must be the Rose he mentioned…or his father had more of a history with women than he had realized.

She was beautiful, and closer to his age than his fathers, but he knew that was something he wasn't ever going to say.

DW

The Doctor fought back words, and then struggled to make them, staring at the woman- Rose- from last night. She looked just as surprised to see him, though when he took a moment for the fog that had overtaken his brain to clear, he realized it made sense. She should have gotten rid of the arm he had handed her, but he hadn't given her instructions to.

He let out a small sigh, as he realized he was probably just chasing a dead end, and resigned himself to leave again. He didn't need the arm, he needed something far bigger. He needed something that would lead him to the transmitter.

"You live here," he finally said, looking into the flat behind her.

She gave him a sharp look.

"I do," she agreed, following his gaze. "What are you doing here?"

She made some comment about only being home because of him blowing up her work, but he carried on, pulling out the sonic. He held it up, as if that was an answer, and she continued to stare at him.

"I was tracking…" he started.

"He had a hunch," Shy said, stepping forward.

"You must be his kids?" Rose asked, looking relieved to see them.

"I'm Shy," Shy said, holding out her hand. Rose shook it, as Gav stepped forward. "This is my brother Gav."

"We'll just be off," the Doctor said, eager to get away- too afraid of how much he wanted to stay.

"Not a chance," she said, grabbing him suddenly and tugging him inside. The twins quickly followed, shutting the door behind them.

She let him go, and he straightened his jacket and started off down the hall, pausing at an open door. She told someone that he was here about the explosion, but went no farther. He shrugged in the direction of the twins and then started off down the hall. They followed, and he glanced in the bedroom.

And older woman was in there, in her dressing gown. She looked him over, and then the twins.

"She deserves compensation," the woman said.

The Doctor nodded, but didn't speak. Gav nudged him and he hurried off down the hall. He thought he heard his son say something about take your kids to work day, but he couldn't be certain, as he walked into the living room.

"Do you all want some coffee," she asked, heading into the kitchen.

He agreed for himself, declining for the twins before they could even speak. Caffeine was even worse for them, than it was for him, and that was saying something. He did want them to sleep sometime this week.

The Doctor wandered around the room, avoiding the mirror. He already knew about the big ears, and the big nose, and the only thing he wanted to know more about at this moment, was the woman in the kitchen. He picked up a piece of mail.

"Rose Tyler," he said, softly.

The twins sat on the couch, as Rose went on about talking to the police. He ought to be finding the arm, getting rid of that for her. Then he should be on his way, because despite running into her twice, he still thought being so close to someone outside of the family, was a bad idea.

He just wasn't sure how much longer he could keep telling himself that.


End file.
